Guns & Roses
by ReticentlyYellow
Summary: Mostly present day, in which Firo, Jacuzzi, Ennis, Nice, Isaac, Miria, and Czeslaw must flee the wrath of people who would prefer them dead. Contains Firo/Ennis, Jacuzzi/Nice, Isaac/Miria, and a little bit of Luck/Firo in chapter three.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:** **Um, hi? I'm not very good with summaries, sorry. And this is my first time, like ever, posting a fanfiction, but my friend insists that I post this, so... here goes? Please please please review and tell me if it's any good or not. *is overly self-concious***

-1990-

"Now, usually, when I want something to disappear, it does. Vanishes without a trace." He paced around the upholstered study, reciting the same lecture to an unreachable student. He let his hand rest on the back of the leather sofa, facing his audience. Behind him was the wall of windows leading to the balcony, enfolded in deep ember curtains.

He faced his hostage and the door, obviously guarded by two stiffs in boring black tuxedos. He'd have to change that.

"But when the object that I want to vanish is a person, there are complications." He nodded at one of the guards, and they withdrew, speaking to a comrade in the hall. Then they returned, again closing the formidable oak door. "Naturally, they will cooperate as smoothly as possible, and go quietly." He started pacing again, trailing his hand along the sofa.

He stopped, put both hands on the sofa and glared seriously at his captive. "I have a task for you. But it will not be easy."

-1933-

"We did good, neh, Miria?"

"Yeah, Isaac!" Miria jumped up and down in excitement. "Let's do more good things!" She danced backwards, making her red dress twirl around her ankles, and almost toppled over a suitcase placed in the middle of the sidewalk.

"Oi!" Miria yelled, whirling around angrily.

"Watch where you put your stuff!" Isaac said, shaking his fist.

"Yeah, watch where you put your stuff!" Miria echoed, mimicking him. The person responsible was wearing a fancy designer suit, tailored to fit them exactly.

She turned around and mumbled "Sumimasen," her short red hair bouncing around her face.

"Eh?" Isaac and Miria cried in unison, leaning forward "Ennis?"

"Ennis-chan!" Miria cried happily, throwing her arms around her in a hug.

Ennis blinked in surprise. "Isaac-san? Miria-san?"

"Ah!" Miria agreed, pulling back. "Long time no see! Me and Isaac have been having lots of fun!"

Isaac put his arm around Miria and pulled her close, the both of them grinning like idiots. "We sure have, neh, Miria?"

"Neh, Ennis-chan, why do you have that suitcase?" It was late in the evening, and the sidewalks were deserted, with people either in their homes or in bars getting drunk. Nevertheless, Ennis looked around before explaining the contents in hushed tones.

"Really?" Miria cried, eyes wide in disbelief.

Ennis smiled. "Really"

Miria drew back, a smile spreading across her face. "Neh, Isaac! Ennis-chan is a superhero!"

"Eh?" Isaac said, striking a pose in his usual way. "Ah, yeah! You're right! Neh, Ennis-chan," he whispered, nudging her with his elbow. "You know what this means, right?" Ennis blinked in confusion, not following their line of thought. "We have to celebrate!" he yelled, throwing up his arms.

"Yeah, celebrate!" Miria echoed, imitating Isaac's pose.

-3 months earlier-

"Neh, Maiza-san, are you sure about this? I mean, if this ends up in the wrong hands, we could have more immortal Dallas's to deal with," Firo said, playing with the brim of his hat.

They were in the basement of the Martillo family, rather plain, but not plain enough to be dilapidated. Many desks were set up around the room, with candles flickering on each one. The light reflected on the glass vials and etched creepy shadows on the walls. Stacks of boxes lined the room; each one marked 'fragile'.

Maiza and Firo stood next to one of the desks, Maiza about to combine the contents of two vials.

"If all goes well, Firo, we won't have to worry about Dallas or anybody else. This is the last time I'm making this." Maiza combined the liquids and a small puff of smoke escaped the new concoction.

Firo wasn't an idiot. He heard the implications in Maiza's voice. It was the last time _he_ was making it, showing no positivity that the next person to lay their hands on this secret wouldn't wield it. _"And wield it poorly," _Firo thought.

But he watched in silence as Maiza made more of the solution and packed it into boxes.

-4 months later-

Jacuzzi blinked in confusion at the crate the deliveryman had handed him. "No charge," the man had said.

"_Could it be a bomb?" _Jacuzzi thought, as he closed the front door with his foot. He stumbled through the panelled hallway, his foot catching on the corner of the oriental carpet. "Eh!" he cried out as he tripped, but managed to catch his balance and set the crate marked 'fragile' on the end table. Jacuzzi stared at the tapestry on the wall as he thought through the options.

Finally, he shouted, "Nice! Did you order anything?"

Nice came down the stairway, holding an unfinished bomb in one hand and putting her glasses back on with the other. "Did I order anything? No," she said, walking over to him. "What's wrong, Jacuzzi?"

"The delivery man said it was free of charge," he whimpered. "What if it's a bomb, Nice? It could explode any second!" Jacuzzi threw his arms up in terror and was about to pull Nice into the adjacent dining room when she stopped him.

"Wait, Jacuzzi. If it was a bomb, they wouldn't have marked it fragile." She began to open it, and Jacuzzi waved his hands wildly.

"Nice, don't! It could explode on you!" He pulled her out of the way and resumed opening it himself.

Nice smiled slightly. "So you're fine with yourself getting blown to pieces?"

"If it's not you, I'm okay with it," he replied, an anxious expression painted on his features. Jacuzzi undid the last clasp and opened the lid carefully. Then he blinked, and his anxiety was replaced by confusion. "Sake?"

Nice laughed, and peered over his shoulder to look. "So it would seem."

There was a knock on their door, and Nice sidled over to open it.

"Konichi-wa, Nice-san!"

"Isaac-san! Miria-san!" Nice stood, shocked at the sight of the two. "What are you doing here?" Jacuzzi came up next to her, looking just as surprised.

"Yo, Jacuzzi!" Isaac said, mock saluting him. Jacuzzi's face broke into a smile, and he invited the two inside.

"Amazing! This is a nice house!" Miria cried in awe, frolicking around the first floor.

Nice smiled, Jacuzzi's arm having made its way around her waist. "Yeah, the money came from the bombs I sold," she laughed awkwardly.

Isaac and Miria caught sight of the package and gave each other a look. "Well, that's fantastic!" Isaac cried, throwing his arms up in the air. "Let's celebrate!" As usual, any occasion even remotely special called for celebration, in Isaac's opinion. Jacuzzi and Nice just smiled and decided to go along with it.

Isaac walked over to the package and pulled out one of the two bottles, and winked at them. "Every good celebration needs sake! So, where do you keep the glasses?" He asked, still grinning. Miria was dancing around the hallway cheerily, a big smile on her face as well.

Nice, trying not to laugh at their antics, replied "Third cupboard in the kitchen." Isaac and Miria skipped off in search as Jacuzzi freaked out at her.

"Eh? We're not really going to drink it, are we?" He flailed his arms around wildly, his panic (as usual) two levels higher than it needed to be.

Smiling, Nice caught his arms. "Jacuzzi, calm down. It's just a little sake. It was sent to us, so we might as well make use of it."

Jacuzzi closed his eyes, took a few deep breaths, and opened them again. "Nice," he started to say, but then Isaac and Miria swept back into the room with four wine-filled glasses. Both handed one to Jacuzzi and Nice, and raised their own in toast.

Nice looked at Jacuzzi, and he grimaced in defeat. They joined Miria and Isaac in downing their glasses.


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note: Hi again! Umm yeah, this would be chapter two. Last time, I forgot to mention that clearly I do not own Baccano! or any of the characters or ideas, etc. Otherwise, I've got nothing to say. Please review! :)**

-present day-

"Neh, Ennis," Czeslaw tugged at her sleeve.

Ennis put her arm around the little boy, smiling fondly. "Hmm, Czes-kun? What's wrong?"

The two of them were at the airport, waiting for Firo to get back from his trip. Few people were around because of the late hour, and the atmosphere of the near empty airport was eerie.

"That girl was looking at us funny," he said, pointing at a teenage girl sitting at the bar. Her hair was dyed yellow-green, short and spiky, and she was wearing a black vest, leather pants, and combat boots. Ennis considered the look, and simply chalked it up to teenage rebellion.

"Now, Czes-kun, we probably just look strange because you're in pyjamas," she teased him. Blushing, Czeslaw shook his head fiercely.

"I think she's trying to find us."

Ennis raised an eyebrow and looked back at the girl. She was getting up and paying for her drink; nothing exceedingly strange. "Neh, Czes-kun," Ennis started to say, but broke off when she saw a leather holster attached to the girl's hip, and a familiar shaped handle poking out of it. She frowned, and bent down next to Czeslaw.

"Why don't you go check the monitor to see if Firo's flight has arrived?" she proposed, trying to figure out a plan. Czeslaw nodded silently, noticing the change in Ennis's attitude. He trotted off to the computer screens displaying arrivals and departures.

Ennis straightened up, watching the girl make her way over to stand by the gate. Deep in thought, she didn't notice when Czes came back.

"It says they landed!" he announced excitedly. "Eto... that gate there!" He pointed to the gate where the girl was standing. Sighing, Ennis cautiously walked over with Czeslaw, keeping her distance from the girl.

Passengers started to filter through the gate, some looking happy to be home, others tired, and still others excited for a new adventure. Ennis was watching for a green fedora, and smiled happily when she saw it.

"Firo!" she called, waving. Czes jumped up and down excitedly next to her.

"Ennis!" Firo smiled. He made his way over to them and engulfed her in a big hug. Finally, he broke away and gave her a slight peck on the lips. Then he bent down and whirled Czeslaw around. "How've you been, Czes-kun?" he asked, and at last relinquished him.

Czes beamed at him. "Fantastic! Ennis-san let me play near the old railroad tracks!" he grinned. Firo cast a sceptical look at Ennis, who shrugged in defeat.

He put his arm around her shoulders, and the small family made their way home.

Upon arriving home, Ennis sent Czeslaw off to bed, and she and Firo sat down in the kitchen to talk.

"Well?" Ennis asked, clutching a warm mug full of hot chocolate. A similar mug sat in front of Firo, but his contained coffee. He took off his suit coat and draped it over the back of his chair before sitting down. Ennis had already gone to change into pyjamas, donning a bathrobe over them, while Firo made a quick phone call to the number Isaac had given him.

Sighing, he took a seat and wrapped his hand around the mug. "Everything's all set. The house is a little more conspicuous than I would've liked, but that's what happens when we let Isaac and Miria pick a house for us." The world had changed drastically in the several decades since they'd met, and they hadn't even aged. Today's people got more suspicious than they used to, and asked questions that Firo and Ennis couldn't answer.

"So it's the day after tomorrow?" Ennis asked, her fingers white from squeezing her cup so tightly.

Firo shook his head tiredly. "No, Isaac moved it up to tomorrow."

-elsewhere in New York-

"I don't know, Jacuzzi. Something doesn't feel right about leaving." Nice shivered and wrapped her arms around herself. She stood on the balcony of their apartment, watching the city rush by beneath her, speaking to Jacuzzi through the open balcony door.

He appeared next to her with a blanket, which he gingerly placed on her shoulders. Nice gave him a smile in thanks, and leaned into his warm body and familiar scent.

"Nice, I know you don't want to leave New York, but we've been hopping around the state for a while, and they're closing in." He cast a nervous look at the door. "We can't risk their finding us again."

Nice sighed. "What would have ever made Miria and Isaac think we'd want to live forever?"

Jacuzzi shook his head in a way of saying 'I have no idea'. "Nice, I know New York is home, but we're not subtle people, no matter how much we try to be. And-" There was a knock on the door, interrupting Jacuzzi's train of thought.

His eyes grew wide in fear. "Nice, it's them!" He started shaking a little, the way he does when he's terrified. Long ago, back on the _Flying Pussyfoot_, he'd promised Nice he wouldn't cry as much. And he'd kept his word; he barely cried at all these days. But that did not stop him from getting scared.

The door flew open, and three people stepped through. The first being a man with cold eyes, dressed in a black suit; second, a girl looking no older than Nice, appearance-wise, dressed in assassin's black and holding a pistol in each hand; and third a young guy in a gray tuxedo, looking as if he didn't give a care about the world. Jacuzzi tugged Nice into a dark corner of the balcony, hoping beyond belief they wouldn't notice.

But the girl with the pistols noticed, and her eyes narrowed, firing a bullet in their direction. She broke the window, landing several shards in Jacuzzi's back, and the bullet grazed his shoulder as he shielded Nice. Immortal or not, old habits die hard.

Panicking, he pulled her over to the edge of the balcony and looked down.

"Nice, we're jumping," he announced, voice high with fear but with that unmistakable Jacuzzi deter-mination.

He put his arms around her, climbed up onto the brick railing, and they jumped off the balcony of their 42nd story apartment.

-1932-

Luck sighed and ran his hand through his hair for the umpteenth time that evening. He glanced around the study; it was dark now. Without his realizing, time had still passed, and therefore, the sun had set.

He reached across his desk and lighted the lamp, only realizing it when he dropped the match on it, a new letter from Firo. Luck stared at it for a few minutes with tired eyes, the lamplight making shadows dance along the walls.

The study of Luck Gandor was very fancily furnished. Not that that came as a surprise, seeing as he was a highly established mob head with a millionaire family. Each wall, apart from the window wall, was lined with bookshelves; each bookshelf packed full with volumes. Every furniture piece was mahogany, the curtains drawn tight on the windows matched the deep ember of the carpet, and each lamp was handmade from the Orient.

Luck Gandor loved his study, and it probably saw him the most out of the many, many rooms in the mansion. Yes, the Gandor mansion was a sight to be seen. That is, if you didn't mind being taken hostage inside.

Blinking the sleep from his eyes, Luck undid the letter, wondering what his best friend wanted now. His eyes crinkled in confusion.

The more he read of the letter, the more conflicted he felt.

"What the hell, Firo," he muttered, sitting back in his chair.


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note:** **Hi again! This is the last chapter, I'm sorry it's so late! ^_^; Umm I have nothing else to say? Oh! At some point *is too lazy to check where* a little Luck/Firo is included, and I'm sorry for those of you who don't like yaoi or slash, but yeah. So um, ignore I guess if you don't like it. It's only a little bit, and its in the past, but it does kind of have a significance on the ending... But as always, read and review! Enjoy :)**

-1989-

"What?" Firo yelled, bolting upright in alarm.

Isaac stood in the doorway, awkwardly holding his hat, for once not having that stupid grin on his face. Miria stood behind him, peeking over his shoulder to see inside Firo's two-room apartment. Her expression, though curious, was also grim.

"He... he couldn't have..." Firo whispered, half out of his chair. "It's not—it's not possible! And he wouldn't!" he murmured, shaking his head in denial.

Isaac looked on in sympathy. "I know you two were good friends. Sorry. Just thought you should know." He backed out, Miria going with him, and closed the door.

"No..." Firo sunk back down into his chair, burying his head in his hands. "Maiza..."

-present day-

"Neh, Isaac, don't you think that this house is pretty?" Miria leaned out of the car window, the wind blowing the hair out of her tanned face. Her sunglasses were pushed up on top of her head as she observed the large adobe house. Tall, but cosy, it had a set of columns in front with long sloping roofs. It was two stories, but with the large attic, it looked like three.

Miria rested her head on her hand. "I like that one, Isaac."

His expression remained serious as he drove into the driveway to please her. Isaac smiled only in company these days. Company -_besides_ Miria. He didn't want them to think he'd changed—or rather, _been _changed.

Isaac cut the engine, and Miria jumped out of the car to skip up the walk to the front. He got out of the car at a more leisurely pace; locking it even though there was no chance anyone would try to steal it. Shoving his hands in the pockets of his suit, he took a look around the surrounding New Mexico territory before joining Miria inside.

"Neh, neh, Isaac, look at this vase!" Eyes wide, Miria poked at the crystalline art as Isaac discussed business with the realtor.

"Um, are you sure? I mean, it costs-"

"I'm sure. I told you the price doesn't matter," Isaac said, casting a glance in Miria's direction as she switched her focus to a bouquet of flowers. "I just want her to be happy."

The realtor blinked, decided not to comment, and sceptically replied, "That'll be 926,000 dollars then."

"Alright," responded Isaac, not even blinking. "If you'll excuse me, I'll get the money from my car." He turned to exit, and called to Miria, "Neh, Miria, I'll be right back. Go get used to your new home!"

Miria straightened up, eyes sparkling with happiness and excitement. "Yay, Isaac!" She ran up the wide oak staircase to the second floor with a new spring in her step.

Isaac pulled the briefcase out of the car and started back up the walk, observing the surroundings more carefully now. Empty desert to the east and west, civilization in 128 miles to the north, and a few more estates a mile down the road to the south. Smiling grimly in satisfaction, he hauled the money-filled valise to the realtor.

"Here ya go," he said, dropping it at the realtor's feet. "There's a million in there. I'm too lazy to count out 926 thousand, so you can just keep the change."

-six hours later-

"Miria! We have to leave for the airport now!" Isaac yelled up the stairs, then resumed his pacing around the parlour. She soon came down, cheerful as ever, and loving their new residence.

"O-kay!" she smiled, giving a thumbs up.

-two weeks later-

"Nice!" Jacuzzi yelled, eyes wide in fear, legs already shaking. He was standing at one of the second-story windows overlooking the road and driveway. The New Mexico landscape was as bleak and deserted as ever, but an unfamiliar car stood in the driveway, and five people stood at the front door.

Nice came out of the bathroom, putting her glasses back on. She started to ask what was wrong, but seeing Jacuzzi's expression and position by the window, immediately figured it out.

There was a knock on the door, and she quickly yelled, "Don't answer it!" But they could already hear the creak of it opening and Miria's cheerful greeting.

Her "hello" was broken off, however, by a bullet through her chest. Miria gasped and her eyes widened a little in surprise before she fell to the ground, momentarily dead. The girl who shot her—the same one that'd been watching Ennis and Czeslaw at the airport—stepped across the threshold. Isaac appeared at the top of the staircase, a mixture of expressions flitting across his face.

He finally settled for worry, though, and ran down the staircase yelling Miria's name. Jacuzzi and Nice both shouted "No!" at him simultaneously; Firo paused in the dining room doorway; the girl shot Isaac as he made eye-contact with Firo; and the other four intruders moved into the room. Isaac shook his head minimally at Firo, who narrowed his eyes, but nodded, and retreated into the shadows unnoticed.

Jacuzzi and Nice watched, horrified, as Isaac crumpled on the stairs for his brief death. They stared in an even worse shock as one of the men from their group walked up the stairs to pause by him. From his hiding spot, Firo gasped in recognition and then glared at the figure in hatred. However, he willed himself to stay put.

The other man, presumably the other living Gandor brother, walked all the way up the staircase and stopped, looking around. He caught sight of Jacuzzi and Nice, grinned evilly, and pulled out a gun, which he proceeded to fire at them. Nice, avoiding the shots, muttered "I promised Miria I wouldn't set off bombs in her house." She frowned, annoyed, but settled for throwing a smoke bomb to get her and Jacuzzi out of there. But when she looked around, he wasn't there. "Jacuzzi," she groaned.

He was now on the first floor, battling as well as he could against one of the girls with two pistols.

And by this time, Miria had revived and was angrily fighting with the girl who'd shot her and Isaac. Isaac, too, had gotten up, and taken on the fifth member of the little intruder gang.

Firo, very glad Ennis and Czeslaw were out of the house at the moment, decided to take his chances while everyone was busy, and moved out of his hiding place. And so he vaulted up the staircase, snatched his immortal hat from amongst the gunfire, bypassed the man who still loved him after all these years, and landed on the bad guy. He then went on to place the hat on his head and walk out of the room like nothing happened. Luck, still frozen halfway up the stairs, stared after him.

Everyone was momentarily stunned. Nice was the first to recover, and quickly hurried over to the unconscious Gandor brother and devoured him. She then ran down the stairs, paying no attention to Luck, to assist Jacuzzi.

After Firo's little demonstration, everything seemed to go a lot easier. Isaac devoured the girl he was fighting, and Miria punched her opponent into Isaac, so he devoured them as well. Jacuzzi also quickly overtook his opponent, and turned to smile at Nice, who gave him a big hug.

"Success!" Miria cried happily, jumping up and down.

At this point, they all seemed to remember Luck, and turned to see him still staring after Firo.

-1932-

"Firo, what is this supposed to be?" Luck asked from the doorway, one eyebrow raised. It hadn't taken long to find Firo; the kid _still_ ducked around the Martillo household.

Firo turned, saw him, and grinned. He motioned for Luck to come in and close the door behind him. Luck did so.

"Okay, Firo. Now explain this stupid letter to me-" But Luck didn't have a chance to finish his order, or even his thought, because suddenly Firo was kissing him, and oh god, it felt good. So he responded more than happily, dropping the letter to bring his arms around Firo.

They were falling onto the bed now, but Luck didn't care. He only cared about the few layers of clothing still separating him from Firo. Firo pulled him even closer, both of them so wrapped up in each other it was hard to tell who was who.

Now that it was started, Luck did _not_ want it to end. He kissed Firo even more fiercely, which prompted another response from Firo.

Several hours later, Firo's head rested on Luck's chest as he slept. Luck watched him affectionately, running his hands through Firo's hair. And at that moment, he promised both Firo and himself, that he would never let him go.

-1989-

"Maiza..." A few tears slipped down Firo's cheeks as he mourned the loss of his friend. Ennis took his hand quietly, also grieving.

"We are gathered here today to mourn the passing of an old friend. He was very dear to our hearts, and would've liked to be remembered. To Maiza. May your memory live on." Isaac raised his glass in toast, and everyone joined him. He sat back down, his expression somber.

Seated around the table was everyone who ever knew Maiza, including Firo, Ennis, Czeslaw, Isaac, Miria, and many others.

After the ceremony was over, Firo murmured something to Ennis. "I swear, if that Gandor bastard ever shows himself to me, I'll devour _him_ no matter how close we are."

-present day-

"Come in!" Luck called in response to the knock. He didn't bother moving from the balcony. None other than Firo Prochainezo stepped through his door, and joined him on the balcony.

The two of them stood in silence, watching the city lights flicker on and off, always changing.

"Nice bouquet of roses in the hall," Firo began. "Gives a nice sense of irony."

Luck bowed his head, smiling.

"You always did have a thing for the unattainable," Firo laughed slightly. "Well, sorry about your brother. I'm afraid that Nice isn't exactly... what's the word? Merciful."

Waving his hand, Luck replied "It's fine. He wasn't good for too much."

Firo nodded silently.

Suddenly, Luck turned to him. "The last time we met, you promised you'd devour me. You said you'd give me the same fate I gave Maiza." He got down on his knees, offering his head to Firo like a sacrifice.

Firo took off his hat and twirled it on his finger. "I suppose I did promise that, didn't I?" He turned to look at Luck, still on his knees, expecting Firo's touch any moment. Replacing his hat on his head, Firo intertwined his fingers in Luck's hair.

"Then again, we're bad at keeping each other's promises." Luck looked up in shock when Firo's hand disappeared from his head. He saw Firo at the door to his study, smiling at him.

"See you around, Luck." And he was gone. Luck stared at the closed door for a moment, and then sighed.

Getting up, he grinned. "Bastard. You know I won't let anyone but you devour me..."

Smiling in defeat, he walked out into the hallway to add a twenty-first rose to the bouquet, for the twenty-first time he'd wanted something he couldn't have. Stopping, his raised an eyebrow in surprise.

There, right in the middle of his bouquet, was shoved a pistol. He smiled. He'd have to make that twenty-two.


End file.
